


at last, at last

by strawberrv



Series: cope with me [2]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, M/M, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, Vaginal Fingering, just mentioned, light kink, sort of lol - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:26:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28564260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberrv/pseuds/strawberrv
Summary: kihyun feels so unsteady. changkyun’s fingers curl just above his wrist, and he feels less so.new semester, spring break, a few more things to sort out. they'll do it together.
Relationships: Im Changkyun | I.M/Yoo Kihyun
Series: cope with me [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2092881
Comments: 14
Kudos: 57





	at last, at last

**Author's Note:**

> hello, dedicated fans of the coping skills universe,, here i am, like the title says, at long last with a sequel ! this would absolutely not have been written without taz barking at me on discord, so be sure to thank her @paratazxis on twitter!
> 
> vague mentions of kihyun's ed, once again, and he talks about transphobia from his family, but there's none on-screen. enjoy! <3

“i think i’m ready.”

kihyun peers over the book he has open, _vanity fair,_ for his british literature class.

“really,” he says flatly, unimpressed with the visage of changkyun, knelt at the foot of his bed, slightly flushed, eyebrows set and drawn in determination. 

“yes,” he says, pitching forward onto his hands to shuffle up closer to where kihyun’s feet are tucked under the covers. “this time i’m gonna do it. and it won’t take an hour like usual.” 

kihyun hums absently and casts his gaze back to the paragraph he was on. “and even then…” he says forlornly, and glances up to catch changkyun’s cheeks going ruddy if they weren’t before, and smiles quietly to himself before kicking changkyun’s knee so he knows he’s joking.

changkyun does some shifting around, reaches over kihyun’s head with a long arm to grab a pillow to tuck under his ribs so they don’t get sore, and says, “i’m serious. i watched a nina hartley video.”

and kihyun sputters and says, “oh my god,” and laughs incredulously at him.

“you watched — oh my god,” and tries to sharpen his vision back to the printed black text, but he thinks his eyes might cross if he tries any harder.

changkyun’s knuckles brush the soft parts of kihyun’s knees in askance, and kihyun shimmies down a bit more, book conveniently covering his face, and lifts his hips to let changkyun pull his sweatpants and briefs down to his ankles. this is comfortable, now, more routine in some ways than kihyun’s actual routines. it’s been two months since they laid in this exact bed and held hands while kihyun shook and shivered, and one month and twenty-six days since kihyun told changkyun that his head game is miserable. changkyun had asked why kihyun is never in the mood for oral, and kihyun simply could not spare his feelings any longer.

_“really, it’s — it’s nothing even that you’re doing wrong, it’s really difficult to do_ right, _is all.”_

_changkyun looked at him, eyes wide and sad behind the silver frames of his glasses._

_“why didn’t you tell me before, i would have stopped?”_

_kihyun tugged his lower lip between his teeth, fiddling with changkyun’s comforter._

_“honestly it was just kind of cool that you even wanted to, i mean, most guys are like — you know — ‘ew pussy,’ or whatever,” he shrugged. when he looked up he was surprised to find changkyun’s eyes darker than he’d ever seen them, jaw tight. it took kihyun a moment to register that changkyun was angry, he’d never seen it on him before, and it was almost silly, like he was acting. but his voice was utterly serious when he said,_

_“i’ll get better.”_

and so, they worked “study dates,” as changkyun loves to obnoxiously call them, into their schedules, which makes the whole thing sound more coy and sexy than the reality, which is kihyun on his back for hours at a time, reading or watching a documentary, with changkyun between his legs occasionally popping up to ask questions with plump lips and a spit-slick chin. sometimes, changkyun will make terrible jokes in reference to it, like kihyun will ask what he wants for dinner and he’ll say “i already ate,” and kihyun will punch him in the shoulder.

changkyun made little to no progress over the course of the last fall month, tongue tired and neck sore on a regular basis, and then winter break came, and kihyun felt a strange nausea in his gut when they said goodbye the day after midterms ended. but now they’re both back on campus, changkyun warm-faced and refreshed after a no doubt luxurious holiday, and kihyun a few pounds heavier, a little cranky after having to stay in his childhood bedroom and endure the “you’re so brave” comments from extended family who hadn’t seen him since high school.

regardless, kihyun peeks over the top of his book again, and he has to admit, changkyun _does_ seem different this time. and it’s not just the eyebrow piercing he got over break. it’s something in his eyes… how he looks in class when he knows the answer to a discussion question. he kneels again to remove his glasses, and kihyun curses his fucking pavlovian response to that after watching changkyun do it before sex so many times, and draws his legs a little further apart. changkyun settles back on his stomach, smooths a reverent hand over kihyun’s inner thigh, and says, “ok?”

and kihyun realizes he’s lost his place on the page, but just nods and starts again at the second paragraph.

deciding not to get his hopes up too much after the first thirty seconds are pretty predictably mediocre, he makes it through a few pages before he realizes that his hips are sort of rocking naturally of their own accord. he pauses, stills. changkyun looks up, mouth obscenely red already. 

“everything ok?” he asks, a little breathless. kihyun frowns.

“yeah go ahead,” he says, but pays more attention this time, averaging a dismal paragraph per minute, but noticing changkyun’s tongue placement a whole lot more. he’s being very careful this time, laving over kihyun’s soft insides with intent. kihyun almost wants to ask what he’s playing at, when it’s been ten minutes and his dick remains undisturbed. usually it’s the first thing changkyun goes for, presumably because it’s the only part vaguely familiar to him, or because he knows that’s the part with all the nerve endings, but now it’s… different. he’s letting the point of his tongue run up between flesh, pressing the flat of it to the leaking wetness there. it’s nice, yes, but it’s such a stark contrast from the previous million times that kihyun is taken aback. he opens his mouth to say something but is cut off, because there it is, the hot dampness of changkyun’s mouth hovering over his dick, fuck, but he doesn’t go for it, not like usual. what he does is he fucking purses his lips, and _suckles._

“oh,” kihyun says, thumb pressing so hard into his book that the page begins crumpling. his left leg involuntarily jolts, and changkyun’s hands are right there, aren’t they, so steady, palm furnace-warm on kihyun’s thigh, smoothing twice over, which does _not_ help, kihyun’s shivery all fucking over now. but changkyun unlatches, thank god, before it becomes too much, and goes back to tracing the ins and outs as if to commit them to memory.

“changkyun,” kihyun breathes, letting himself settle back into the mattress, moving one hand to card through changkyun’s shaggy hair. he really does need it cut, but kihyun can’t think about this for too long because there’s changkyun’s mouth again, fuller around his cock, warm as the rest of him. kihyun shivers again, breath picking up, and his wrist aches from holding his book. his lower half is tingling in ways he can usually only achieve with the help of a vibrator, but it’s just changkyun, dedicated, changkyun between his legs licking as if kihyun were an ice cube in the desert. and kihyun does think he’s melting like one; the pads of his fingers are fucking sweating, he’s wet damp over, changkyun spreading the mess onto his thighs, no doubt dripping onto the sheets. normally kihyun doesn’t have a need to lay a towel down or anything; as much as he might like to ejaculate it’s simply never happened for him, but now he wishes he were in the habit. changkyun pulls off and presses his tongue again to the edge of his insides, and kihyun drops his book, which tumbles off the bed and onto the floor.

“fuck,” he says, both at that and at the fucking _sensations,_ heat crawling up into his abdomen and not stopping there, insistent on cooking his ribs and neck and making his face burn.

“oh god,” he says, embarrassingly kind of wheezy now; he puts the heel of his hand to his forehead as changkyun now sucks him off in earnest. he’s feeling very much like a character in the novel now face-down on his floor, stuck in the heat without a parasol. 

the hand not on kihyun’s thigh finds its way to the muscles beneath kihyun’s dick, knuckles running horizontal strokes there, dipping down, slick, to glide over soft skin. kihyun’s stomach slowly tightens, and he squeaks, which he’s _never_ done before, but he can’t even take a moment to be upset about it because changkyun won’t fucking let him; his tongue works dull and quick over kihyun’s hardness, and kihyun’s hips jerk up to press the blunt flats of changkyun’s teeth into him, and he pants out, “don’t fucking stop,” and plants his heels in the comforter.

he squeezes his eyes shut and it’s all changkyun there to greet him, as if kihyun isn’t oversaturated already; he thinks of changkyun’s soft, thoughtful features, the way they contort in pleasure with kihyun’s hands on him, kihyun straddling him, and changkyun, the real one, does that lip pursing thing again as he presses his knuckles up to draw back the hood from kihyun’s cock, and kihyun hooks a leg over changkyun’s shoulder and comes, harder than he has recent memory of. the pleasure pulses through his body into his brain, and his hands grip his pillow so tightly, back arching, and changkyun rubs a circle on his hip as he continues, licking him through it. kihyun’s abdomen contracts, and changkyun moves his hand to smooth over the muscles, _calm down now, i’m not stopping,_ and kihyun makes these pitiful whimpering noises as his vision clears. 

“mmh,” he says, and changkyun pulls away, even the tip of his big nose slick and shining, which is so stupid-hot.

“you’re such a mess,” kihyun murmurs, setting his body back down carefully, accepting that he’ll just have to rewash his sheets tonight.

“well?” changkyun asks expectantly, eyes bright and excited, dick hard in his trousers. goddamn it.

before kihyun can summon an answer, changkyun’s eyes catch on the clock above the calendar on the wall, and he straightens, kneeling up, and grins.

“dude! twenty-seven minutes!”

“i—” kihyun glances at the clock, though he has no idea if that’s true since he didn’t note when they started.

“yes, well. yes.”

“that was better?” changkyun asks, eager for approval in a way that he does not even show to their professors, as if waiting for kihyun to stamp a big red A on his forehead, with the note _good work, exemplary_ scrawled illegibly on his temple.

kihyun swallows. “um… yeah. very different. wow.”

changkyun grins, in that way that he’s frowning at the sides; a wavering line of flat, slightly crowded teeth. kihyun reaches a hand out and changkyun wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, and leans up to kiss him. kihyun sucks himself out of changkyun’s mouth, licks over those teeth, kisses at the corner before pulling his knees up and reaching a hand down to grip changkyun’s erection. changkyun’s body goes weak and his face goes tight.

“ah, you don’t… uh, have to,” he says in an ailing sort of voice, and kihyun giggles softly to himself.

“i’m not going to,” he says, taking in the way he can feel changkyun’s brows furrow in confusion. kihyun presses his forehead into changkyun’s shoulder until he falls onto his back, legs falling open, because of course they do. kihyun brings his pillow close to his chest and rests his pink cheek on it, feeling very princely.

“will you let me watch? i’m just so very sensitive still,” he says with a faux pout, and changkyun blinks, eyes glassy, and unbuckles his belt. kihyun watches rapturously as he fits his dick in his hand, not bothering to remove any more clothes than he already has, and immediately tips his head back against the mattress, a low whimper leaving his feeble lips. kihyun breathes out slow.

“did it make you hard to eat me, kyun?” he asks, plain.

changkyun nods so hard his hair starts to stand up with static, running his thumb up his length.

“hm. do you think you did a good job?”

changkyun shakes. “yes,” he says, breathless, shy, unsure and begging for affirmation. kihyun hums.

“it was… acceptable. but i bet you know how to do yourself even better, don’t you?”

changkyun moans, hand working over himself, and kihyun can tell he’s not going to last long at all, cock already so red, precome making its slow way down his shaft. kihyun trails fingertips along changkyun’s ribs, thumbing over his nipple; changkyun’s properly shaking, now. it takes all of seven minutes for changkyun to come, which is sort of impressive given the circumstances, and kihyun loves to watch his oh-so-small mouth fall open wide as it can go, pink lips trembling, hips bucking into that sturdy left hand of his. kihyun presses his body close, closes his hand on changkyun’s wrist to work him through until changkyun’s whimpering, hips twitching, cock softening. kihyun mercifully relents, and changkyun goes boneless, pressing even closer into kihyun, a creature in need of comfort and warmth and nothing else at all, and at times kihyun feels bad that all he has to offer is the often-chilly sharpness of his own body, but changkyun seems to love it just the same.

kihyun cards fingers through his hair and they stay like this for an unsure amount of time, lover’s embrace in the mussed sheets. eventually changkyun’s breaths turn to soft snuffles against kihyun’s collarbone, and kihyun carefully leans over the edge of his bed and picks up vanity fair, catching the end of the chapter in the fading afternoon light.

x

“you look happy,” minhyuk comments, carefully neutral even though he’s emanating smugness, which kihyun resents. kihyun kicks him from under the table, but minhyuk hardly winces — too used to it, kihyun supposes.

“but how can that be possible when i’m the dark king of the underworld, in your words?” kihyun asks innocently, picking through his salad with disinterest.

“well, since the dark king of the underworld has begun d-wording a certain large-beaked music major, he seems capable of previously-thought deceased emotional responses,” minhyuk says, in that bitchy tone he used to take with any ill-intentioned jocks in high school. “so who knows what might be possible.” 

kihyun rolls his eyes, eats a cherry tomato.

minhyuk narrows his gaze. “and you’re not even denying it, so you _really_ must be geeked.”

“i am _not_ geeked,” kihyun denies vehemently, pushing his salad away.

“and we’re… i’m not d-wording him. i don’t think.”

minhyuk raises an eyebrow, nudges his own half-eaten sandwich over to kihyun’s side of the table.

“doesn’t he spend like, every spare moment at your dorm?”

kihyun shrugs, tentatively lifting up the bread of the sandwich to see if there’s any mayo. there isn’t. “i have a single.”

“riiiiight,” minhyuk says, leaning back in his chair.

“well, let me get this straight, you two were classmates-turned-eff-double-u-bees, then you both caught feelings, had a two-hour make-out, nonverbally acknowledged your feelings for each other, and then… didn’t… start dating.”

kihyun huffs, taking a bite of the sandwich and glaring in lieu of a reply.

“so what are you now?” minhyuk asks, tenaciously nosy as fucking ever.

kihyun swallows.

“we’re fucking.”

“you were fucking before.”

“we’re fucking _and_ kissing. and sometimes we study. there. happy?”

“i’m just saying, maybe you should consider how, oh, i don’t know, a normal fucking person might think of your relationship. how _changkyun_ might think of your relationship.”

“changkyun’s fine.”

“was changkyun fine before, or is he fine _now?”_

kihyun throws up his hands, having had just about enough of this conversation.

“i don’t see why there has to be a _before_ and an _after_ — it’s just that — that,”

“that what!” minhyuk goads him, half out of his seat, eyes alight. kihyun’s face is hot, something on the edge of his teeth, tip of tongue, but—

“i don’t know!” he exclaims, drawing a few curious glances from the students at the next table.

minhyuk sits back down and sighs heavily, but doesn’t further prod the sleeping dragon, just bites his lip and judges.

x

changkyun’s mouth is always so warm.

kihyun hums into him, presses his tongue to changkyun’s teeth. changkyun grins, glasses slipping down his nose, silver cool on kihyun’s cheek. he blows out a puff of air and sits, slipping his glasses off and placing them on kihyun’s bedside. kihyun chews his lip.

“do you,” he starts, impulsively. changkyun raises an eyebrow, turning back to blink at him. he looks so soft, without those glasses, just a honey-milk boy, the ease wealth has provided still gilding his edges, soft-cheeked with that big nose making his eyes look ever smaller.

“i wanted to ask… do you… _like…_ how we are? now. i mean, do you like this better than… before.”

well, kihyun never claimed to have a way with words. changkyun blinks again, brows pulling together in confusion.

“um… yes?” he says tentatively, certain he’s about to be told off by teacher.

kihyun sighs and pulls him back down by the wrist.

“nevermind,” he says, and latches his mouth to changkyun’s collar, and that is that.

x

there’s an old film festival type of thing happening on the quad tonight, and kihyun strolls up with minhyuk just in time to catch _frankenstein._ minhyuk’s brought this atrocious cheddar-flavored popcorn he made in his dorm and kihyun is trying valiantly to stay upwind of it. they make their way into the crowd, trying to find a clear patch of grass in the dark to lay down kihyun’s blanket (he’s wearing his good jeans; grass stains are unacceptable). someone makes an annoyed huff at them, and minhyuk makes a face in the dark.

they see a spot, and in haste kihyun’s ankle hits someone’s shoulder. he hisses out an apology, but the voice that replies is all too familiar in its low timbre. kihyun leans down, minhyuk bumping into his hip.

“changkyun?” he asks incredulously, and sure enough, small, mouse-feeble eyes blink back at him from behind plastic lenses.

“kihyun?” he says.

“minhyuk!” minhyuk says cheerily, crunching on a kernel of popcorn.

“what are you doing here?” kihyun hisses, for some reason affronted at changkyun’s presence.

changkyun blinks again, glasses reflecting the black-and-white projection of victor frankenstein.

“um, i like old movies,” he says simply, and kihyun feels embarrassment crawling up his neck; he _knew_ that. changkyun had told him that while deciding what to put on while they ate fast food one night. kihyun had noted it because it’s something they have in common. the empty, gnawing feeling that tells him he’s made a mistake starts up in kihyun’s gut. he looks away, and the shift makes him bump into minhyuk again, who he’d nearly forgotten was there. someone whispers at them to sit down; they’re blocking the movie.

“welllllll,” minhyuk says, cracking a knuckle absently, “would you look at that, hyungwon has just contacted me telepathically to tell me that he’s horny. i’d better go before he dies, but you two have fun okay!” he puts a firm hand on kihyun’s shoulder so that he’s forced to sit down, blanketless, and promptly sweeps off, purposely bumping into the person that griped at them.

kihyun, feeling the slight dampness of wintertime grass soak into his good jeans, does not look at changkyun.

they should have gone together. _obviously_ they should have gone together. kihyun, habitually, invited minhyuk the moment he saw the event advertised on a bulletin, but _changkyun_ is here by himself. neither of them thought to mention it, to buy an extra ticket. kihyun doesn’t know why it bothers him, but, sitting straight-backed on the quad, trying to ignore changkyun’s furnace-like warmth to his left, he’s bothered.

the fact that they obviously should have come together unfortunately leads kihyun down a much deeper rabbit hole — _i don’t know,_ he’d said, but he’d known it wasn’t true as it was curling around his tongue and leaving his mouth. he does know, kind of, a little bit; he knows it’s different, that he changed something that night. _obviously_ something changed, because _obviously_ they should have come here together; this is not something kihyun would have thought about for more than a millisecond last semester, but here he is this semester, thinking about it.

so, something changed, and even more suspiciously, kihyun suspects he likes it. changkyun shifts in his peripheral, glasses glinting in the light from the movie. kihyun turns his head to look at him fully, changkyun’s darkened profile, brow furrowed, thoughtful, and without his permission, kihyun’s brain summons the word _boyfriend,_ and kihyun stands up abruptly.

the same motherfucker from before says, “hey!” and kihyun turns around and hisses, “read the book, then, fuck!” and promptly storms off. there’s a murmur through the small crowd as he leaves, and he makes it to the bottom of the hill that leads up to the dorms before changkyun catches up with him.

kihyun glances back to see he’s panting, just a little, bewildered and pink from jogging in the cold.

“kihyun!” he calls, but kihyun starts up the hill. he hears changkyun’s clumsy steps behind him, but he doesn’t want to stop. he wants to run away. he likes running away.

“what’s wrong?” changkyun asks, this time a lot closer, and kihyun curses his relatively unathletic body. kihyun turns, finally, feet still taking him a little bit backwards as he does, and he digs his heels into the grass to maintain his balance. changkyun is standing just a couple feet away, hand hovering, reaching.

“is this a fight?” he asks, worried, breathless, “are we fighting?”

“what?” kihyun says, growing more agitated by the second. a _fight_ and kihyun’s still deciding if they’re dating or not.

“is it my fault?” the way he asks this is not meek, like kihyun expected, nor anxious, like his previous inquiries had been. he says this with a grave acceptance, as if he’s preparing for a terrible journey.

“what? no!” kihyun wants to scream. worse. he wants to kiss changkyun. he wants changkyun to be his boyfriend. fuck.

kihyun bites his lip and then the bullet: “are we dating?”

changkyun blinks, slipping backwards down the hill a little. kihyun reflexively grabs his outstretched arm as changkyun stumbles. and then they’re just holding onto each other on the hill, fit to fall without the point of contact. unsteady, kihyun feels so unsteady. changkyun’s fingers curl just above his wrist, and he feels less so.

“um,” changkyun says.

“it’s okay,” kihyun says, “i won’t get mad.”

changkyun squints, like kihyun himself is a trick question. but kihyun thinks he told the truth; he won’t get mad. he doesn’t even know what he wants the answer to be.

except, then changkyun says, warily, “then, yes,” and kihyun is so relieved that he loses his balance on the damp grass and sits down hard on the hill. changkyun, an attached barnacle, is pulled down as well and lands on his knees.

“oh,” kihyun says, and then doesn’t say anything else.

changkyun worries his lip and then shuffles a little closer and sits back. their arms have slipped and now they’re just holding hands, and it all seems so plain now, doesn’t it. kihyun thought he was using changkyun as a safety rope, all the while keeping it firmly tied even as he was out of danger. beyond a suspicion, at this point kihyun knows he likes it. he doesn’t want changkyun to let go.

“okay,” he says.

“okay?” changkyun repeats, “so… good? that’s good? the right answer, i mean?”

kihyun rolls his eyes, but just yanks changkyun closer and kisses him hard on the mouth. the movie must be over, because he can sense students walking around them and hear the low murmur of conversation, but he doesn’t really care. he has a boyfriend. he likes it. 

x

minhyuk says, “oh my god _finally,”_ when they meet up for lunch again the next week, and kihyun sighs deeply.

“go ahead.”

“i told you so!”

“do you feel better?”

“like my four humors have been rebalanced after months of black bile!” minhyuk grins and eats a cube of watermelon without breaking it.

“i’m so happy,” kihyun says, flatly, but of course it’s secretly true. he’s so stupid happy.

x

“changkyun!” kihyun calls from his place on the closed toilet lid, hands full with disinfectant wipes, a syringe, and the bottle of his testosterone. changkyun skitters into view of the door, sweatpants on backwards. he’s still all warm-looking and post-coital.

“could you— sorry, i can’t get it.” kihyun offers the syringe.

changkyun runs his tongue over his teeth in his mouth and takes it along with the bottle, brow furrowing in concentration. it’s just the remnants which are always so difficult to get at; kihyun has to pick up his prescription pretty soon. he wipes the top of his thigh with disinfectant, still just in his briefs. after changkyun’s measured the amount successfully, kihyun holds out his hand. but changkyun goes to his knees instead, scooting close.

“can i…?” he asks, brown eyes hopeful. kihyun feels himself flush. 

“um, sure,” he mumbles.

changkyun loops his hand under kihyun’s leg, fingers brushing the inside of his knee. kihyun shudders. changkyun’s other hand braces on top, syringe poised.

“okay?” he asks.

kihyun groans impatiently, “if you don’t hurry up i—” he’s cut off by a wince and a hiss as the needle goes in, changkyun’s fingers professional as he pushes the plunger. it’s what the nurses used to do for his booster shots — distract him by asking him a question, and then catch him off guard so he doesn’t anticipate the pain. it’s a combination of two of kihyun’s most hated things — being interrupted, and surprises, but this time… this time it’s not so bad.

and as soon as it’s over, changkyun sets the needle down and lays his lips on the pinprick of blood, already there to sooth the hurt. his mouth is warm on the vague soreness, his hand still cupping kihyun’s pale thigh reverently. kihyun unfreezes himself and sets his hand on changkyun’s head, fingers moving his dark hair.

“thank you,” he says, softly.

changkyun raises his head and smiles, but it’s sort of wobbly, like he’ll cry.

kihyun frowns, “are you okay?”

but changkyun just shakes his head, keeps smiling.

“i just… like you,” he murmurs, “a lot.”

kihyun feels his face try to handle the blatant confession. a half-cringe, then a strange little smile, then a small wince. they’ve been saying that, lately. kihyun is trying to get used to it. they still haven’t said the big L yet, but kihyun feels it vaguely looming. sometimes, when he looks at changkyun, he feels it bubble up on his tongue, but he swallows it every time.

“i like you, also,” he says back, after a moment of preparation. changkyun’s smile splits, his rounded teeth all cozy in his mouth.

“will you come home with me for spring break?”

this is a little more in kihyun’s wheelhouse of acceptable conversation; he likes planning. let’s see, spring break; a month from now, roughly. kihyun doesn’t have any particular plans at the moment, aside from some vague rumblings from minhyuk about the georgia coastline being “basically heaven, if you’re into that sort of thing,” which kihyun is pretty sure he isn’t.

“mayyyybeeee,” he says, chewing on the idea as changkyun pets his leg. going home with changkyun would mean meeting changkyun’s parents — doesn’t that seem a little soon? well, maybe not for changkyun, who has ostensibly been dating kihyun a lot longer than kihyun has been dating _him._

“my parents will love you, ki. and they’re curious, anyway,” changkyun says, thumbing absently over kihyun’s patella. kihyun raises an eyebrow.

“you’ve told your parents about me?” changkyun’s thumb stills briefly, then resumes.

“well… i kind of tell them everything. so i kind of told them about you like, last year?”

kihyun, smug and shocked and pleased at once, preens a little bit.

“when last year?”

“like the second week of school,” he mumbles.

kihyun gapes, then wacks changkyun over top of his head.

“hey,” he pouts.

“changkyun! we didn’t even know each other!”

“you seemed cool, that’s all,” changkyun says, still pouty. kihyun huffs and pets his hair where he’d hit him.

“alright so… we’d be there the whole week?”

changkyun rests his cheek on top of kihyun’s thighs.

“i mean… yeah, pretty much. if you don’t wanna stay there we can get a hotel room, though. my brother won’t even be home, though, so we should be mostly left alone.”

“hmmm,” kihyun says, internally sputtering a little at changkyun’s cavalier attitude towards money, which he’s been lately trying to make changkyun more aware of. he tries to imagine the im family’s towering east coast mansion, probably brick, or pale eggshell with crawling ivy. he tries to imagine changkyun’s childhood bedroom, and can’t, which intrigues him.

“i’m thinking… tentatively yes. for now.” he pats changkyun’s head, who grins sideways at him.

“i like you,” he says again.

kihyun, at his limit for _that_ kind of behavior today, only huffs and mutters, “obviously,” under his breath. 

x

changkyun has a driver. kihyun knew this, somewhere in the back of his head, but now he is in a tasteful black lexus and someone else is being paid to drive them to changkyun’s family home. it’s not that he’s nervous — alright, well, he’s nervous. he’s been trying not to lie to himself as much lately, which is ridiculous and difficult and mainly pointless, but it makes things easier with changkyun, occasionally.

for example, changkyun asks, “are you nervous?” about halfway into the five-hour drive, and kihyun can mildly shrug instead of outright denying it, which is “amazing progress,” according to changkyun.

the driver is professional and smells completely neutral, and turned on the heat precisely when kihyun started to get a little chilly, so kihyun has already mentally approved of him. kihyun was stiff at first, what with another person in the car with them, but changkyun’s familiarity with the situation soon infected him, and now they lounge with kihyun’s arm around changkyun’s shoulders, changkyun half-escaping his seatbelt and scrolling through a photography blog on his phone. he shows kihyun the ones he thinks are interesting or pretty, and kihyun points out what he would’ve done differently.

before kihyun knows it, they’re rolling along a winding driveway at twilight, and soon enough a towering, vintage building comes into view. there’s no climbing ivy, which is a little disappointing, but kihyun likes the overall architecture, which is not ostentatious but still inviting and undeniably expensive-looking. the red of the brick walls is a subdued burgundy in the lack of sun, with dark trim and roofing to tie in. the house looks to be three stories total, not including the attic.

“wow,” he says, before he can stop himself. he looks over at changkyun, whose expression is unfamiliar, new to kihyun. after a moment of studying, he decides it’s nostalgic relief, like changkyun wants to say, _finally._

sometimes kihyun forgets that changkyun is still a freshman, unused to long stretches away from home, and he’s probably missed this place, this great building with warmly lit windows, these stately sycamores keeping watch along the boundaries of the property. kihyun turns back to the house, and thinks, if he had grown up here, he would miss it just as sorely.

when they get out, the air smells like a storm is coming, but that’s what it usually smells like in these parts of new england, as well as grass and nighttime. changkyun takes his hand and kisses his cheek, and by the time they’re ringing the doorbell, kihyun realizes he’s forgotten to be nervous. the man that answers is so obviously changkyun’s father that kihyun has to blink a couple of times to make sure it isn’t actually just changkyun again.

changkyun says, “dad,” and lets go of kihyun briefly for a hug. kihyun waits politely until changkyun withdraws and says, “this is kihyun, my boyfriend,” which sends such a thrill up kihyun’s spine it’s a little like being electrocuted.

“i’m so happy to meet you, sir,” he says, with his most sensible smile on, but changkyun’s father gives a great, kind laugh, and just hugs kihyun as well, who is unprepared but not upset about it. changkyun’s father is a lot broader than changkyun himself, and smells like soap and the outdoors, a lot.

“and i am even happier to meet you, kihyun!” he announces as a woman, presumably changkyun’s mother, comes around the corner in a bustle of apron and warmth.

changkyun introduces them in korean, and kihyun fumbles a little but manages to exchange niceties in the language, evidently out of practice. she fusses a little and says something about kihyun he doesn’t quite catch, tugging at his loose sweater, to which changkyun says, a little sharply, _“eomma!”_

kihyun blinks at him, but changkyun just waves it off and pulls him closer to say in his ear, “she says you need to eat more, is all. sorry,” he adds, eyebrows all apology as he leans back. kihyun just shrugs, mainly unbothered, and bows to changkyun’s mother again as she exits.

“should we bring in the… bags…?” kihyun suggests, but as he turns he finds the driver walking up the front steps to them, all of their luggage impossibly clutched in his arms. 

“oh!” kihyun says, and thanks the driver profusely. when he looks back, changkyun’s eyes are so liquid and affectionate that kihyun has to immediately look away again.

“well, i’ll let you two get settled in; i’m sure changkyun-ah will want to give you the tour, and all that! dinner will be around whenever you get hungry,” mr. im says, which seems like such an impossible thing to kihyun, to just have a meal on one’s own schedule.

regardless, he and changkyun make it upstairs with their bags, and changkyun opens the door to a large, carpeted room. bookshelves go up and down every available wall, with various trinkets decorating the dresser, bedside table, and wherever else there happens to be space. changkyun, a little pink, flops onto the bed (a downy navy comforter on a queen-size mattress), and asks, “what do you think?”

kihyun sets down his duffel and gives him a look. “it’s very impressive.”

changkyun sighs, “i know, i know, it’s a lot.”

kihyun wanders over to the nearest shelf, examining the spins of some murder mysteries.

“well… yes.” he slides out a book by a russian author, testing the weight of it. most of these are well-loved, he can see, all the spines cracked and edges fuzzy from changkyun’s warm hands.

“but it’s nice, honey. i like it. what’s this one about?” he asks, flipping the cover around. changkyun peers up, glasses abandoned on his night side.

“oh umm, i think it’s, like, she kills him for the fortune. it was about, like, the line between performance and reality and what makes something ‘real.’ i liked it.”

“hmmm,” kihyun says, and puts it back. he moves on to several figurines of wild horses, galloping in a neat line in front of some oscar wilde.

“are you secretly a horse boy and didn’t tell me?” he asks, faux-accusatory, but changkyun just laughs, unembarrassed.

“i went through a thing with the movie ‘spirit’ when i was, like, eleven? horseback lessons for two months, until i got bucked and never wanted to go back.”

kihyun smiles to himself at the thought of little changkyun on a pony, holding the reins for dear life. when he turns back around, changkyun reaches out an arm for him, which kihyun makes his way over to take, and he’s reminded of the month before last, on the hill. this time, kihyun is the one who gets pulled down, powerless against the dream team that is gravity and changkyun.

he lands on changkyun with an _oof,_ and changkyun grins, and his eyes are leo minor, cepheus, pyxis. pyxis is the compass constellation, and kihyun follows true north to changkyun’s mouth, which is open and soft and yielding. kihyun sighs, and changkyun holds his waist, and soon they’re slowly rocking into one another; thank goodness kihyun remembered to close the door after them. and that thought alone is a little bit thrilling; they’re used to the ultimate privacy of kihyun’s single dorm, but now they’re giggling youths with a secret, and things now should be quiet and stifled and maybe a little rushed. kihyun likes this thought, a lot.

“changkyun,” he says, a little breathy already, “can you beat twenty-seven minutes? right now?”

changkyun blinks up at him, and then his eyes go dark, determined, heated tiger’s eye. he undoes kihyun’s button and fly in record time, and then his palm is right there. kihyun gasps, quiet, and changkyun immediately catches on, quick study he is.

he flips them so kihyun is pressed into the luxurious covers, and presses the heel of his hand into him. kihyun whimpers, clutching at changkyun’s shirt, spreading his legs as much he can with his jeans still mostly on. changkyun’s mouth is on his neck, now, fingers locating his cock even through the material of his underwear. god, he’s getting good at this. too good; it’s almost embarrassing how much kihyun likes this, likes changkyun’s hands on him. 

“god,” he says, as changkyun’s fingers slip under the waistband. the pads of his fingers are wide, wide things, covering more of kihyun than is proper, really, pushing at just the right spots, gliding over and over and over. kihyun feels his eyes roll briefly, and when he refocuses, changkyun is ruddy and panting. kihyun throws his arms around his neck and pulls him down, and changkyun goes, changkyun goes. kihyun loves it. the idea of pointing somewhere and changkyun just _going_ borders on sexual fantasy for him, except it’s better because it’s _real._ changkyun’s fingers run laps on kihyun, in kihyun, his tongue doing its own exercises on the soft parts of kihyun’s neck.

“mmh, yes,” kihyun says, whispers really, and changkyun moans encouragingly in his ear. kihyun rolls his hips, and the burn of those muscles makes it better, and changkyun’s thumb under his cock makes it better, and changkyun’s shuddering body pressing against every inch of him makes it better.

“close, baby, so close,” he murmurs, and changkyun’s fingers speed with purpose, because they go, too, wherever kihyun wants.

changkyun then says a plaintive, “please,” into kihyun’s ear. “please can i watch when you come? can i see?” this request is so low that kihyun can feel it in his mouth. he can taste it, can feel it trickle to the back of his throat, caught, like remnants of honey from tea, thick. he could choke on these words. he could swallow them; drink them down.

“yes,” he says, and then comes, pulls changkyun’s shirt away from his shoulder, bares his neck and arches his back in full view. changkyun pulls away slightly, and the feeling of that watch, those dark eyes, makes it best. kihyun moans and curses under his breath, hips jerking, muscles twitching, and this is changkyun’s drink, easy down his throat.

“cheater,” kihyun pants, after he’s done, but he grips changkyun’s wrist to keep his hand where it is, enjoying the warmth and pressure.

“you didn’t use your mouth. doesn’t count.”

changkyun leans down, brushes his hot lips over kihyun’s ear, and says, “then it’ll just be different record.”

kihyun squints. “for what?” he feels changkyun’s mouth curl.

“for the hottest o-face you’ve ever made.”

kihyun makes another one of his sounds that is half indignant and half flattered, and kisses changkyun until he comes.

x

after lounging, showering, and finally dressing in fresh clothes, they make their way down to the kitchen to find mrs. im still up, humming something to herself and stirring something milky and sweet-smelling in a pot. changkyun hugs her from behind and moves to the counter, where about seventeen thousand korean side-dishes are waiting. when she spots kihyun, she stops stirring and turns down the heat.

“kihyun-ah,” she says, and kihyun reflexively thinks he’s in trouble, conditioned by his grandparents scolding him as a child.

but then she just steps closer, and pats him on the shoulder. in accented english, she says, “your body is good. sorry.” and pats him again. kihyun blinks over her shoulder changkyun, who looks just as bewildered.

“thank you,” kihyun says, and awkwardly bows, because he doesn’t know what else to do. mrs. im then turns, pours the contents of the pot into a mug, and sweeps away, still humming.

“oh my god,” changkyun says, once a door opens and closes somewhere else in the house. kihyun laughs a little, and lets changkyun pull him close by the counter.

“wow. are you okay?”

kihyun nods, picking up a sweet cucumber and chewing on it contemplatively.

“i’m… good, actually. she was… it was good. what she said. it was nice.”

changkyun looks at him for a few more moments, then kisses him and makes their plates. 

x

the next morning is a much more involved affair, a little more of what kihyun had been expecting. he, changkyun, and changkyun’s parents sit at the massive dining table, though somehow it manages to feel full with just the four of them. a young woman with a round, sun-freckled face brings them all what is apparently freshly-squeezed orange juice on a literal silver platter.

mr. im says, “oh, this is just a weekly thing, kihyun; during orange season we we have amanda get out the juicer on tuesdays, for a little treat!”

amanda smiles sunnily. kihyun gives changkyun a look while he sips from his spotless glass.

they talk a bit about school, the class that changkyun and kihyun met in, kihyun’s major. they seem genuinely interested, which is… strange. kihyun ends up essentially outlining the entire process of photo development, mr. im translating occasionally for his wife, before he realizes it’s been almost an hour. he politely concludes, and the changkyun’s tugging at his hand, “come on, let’s see the back.”

the back of the house is, somehow, just as grand as the front, with a small orchard ahead, and those huge sycamores on either side, noble guards.

“it’s so beautiful, god,” kihyun says, idly patting the trunk of an orange tree.

“me and brother used to pretend to do paleontology back here, and dad didn’t even get mad because ‘it’s a science-minded activity.’” 

kihyun snorts, linking their fingers as they wander deeper into the wood.

“you look like him,” kihyun says after a minute of walking, “your dad.”

changkyun hums and reaches above their heads to tug on a thick branch.

“i guess so, not much else though.”

kihyun frowns, “what do you mean?”

changkyun shrugs. “i just didn’t really get the head for science. jungkyun is at mit, and i’m… doing music.”

“yes, but your music is good,” kihyun argues, “plus, you’re still getting your degree. it’s not like you went out on your own.”

changkyun rubs the back of his neck with his free hand. “yeah, but they sent me to a school with a great science program, like, on purpose. and then i did music. i don’t know, ignore me.”

“no, tell me.”

changkyun sighs, “i guess sometimes it feels like they don’t try to get to know me.”

kihyun comes to a stop, looks up at the canopy of leaves above them. “did you tell them?”

sunlight comes through the great sifter of the trees, broken into pieces at their feet.

“tell them what?”

“that you wanted to do music.” he looks back at changkyun, who is thinking, hard.

“i… sort of. i mentioned that i liked it.”

kihyun tastes the beginnings of bitterness in the back of his mouth, but keeps it out of his voice.

“mentioning isn’t telling. you just told me that story about you and your brother; how are they supposed to know that’s not still what you want? they sent you to a school that they thought you would like. they wanted the best for you. i’m not going to pretend to know the nuances, and of course they should show interest in you, but it sounds to me like you didn’t speak up for yourself, which led to a miscommunication,” he concludes, neutral as he can be. of course, he’s thinking of his own family, he’s thinking of the scholarships and loans he applied for, he’s thinking of everything changkyun never had to think of.

changkyun is worrying his lip, hand in his pocket, contemplative. 

“i never thought of it like that,” he finally admits. “you’re right, i… that’s part of growing up, i guess. telling people what you want.” he looks up, a bit of sun in his eye, making it a clear brown. kihyun wants, more than anything, to take a picture. changkyun tugs him closer by the hand.

“thank you,” he says, voice strong. kihyun smiles a little, “for what?”

“just thank you.” his lips are soft as sun on kihyun’s cheek.

v

changkyun likes the rain. kihyun doesn’t eat breakfast when it rains, which is to say the rain makes kihyun inconsolably sad, and so changkyun has become wary of the rain.

in kihyun’s dorm bed, with kihyun in his arms, he glares at the rainfall on the other side of the window, suspicious, and holds kihyun tighter. he would hold an umbrella until his arm shook. he would become a weatherman and do dances on the tv to make kihyun laugh, when it rained. he would let kihyun take pictures of him under rainclouds, then hold his jacket over him when the clouds unseamed. bundle him off to late lunch at a diner.

he’d said, “ah, bad luck,” but what he’d meant was: _oh, what luck, to be with you when it rains._

the storm that’s been brewing over the atlantic has finally made its marching way to them, and it’s afternoon on the third day of their visit when it breaks. 

kihyun is melancholy, and changkyun brings him breakfast in bed, of which kihyun eats two bites, which is a thorough victory, for changkyun personally.

changkyun drifts through lunch and dinner with kihyun at his side, mulling over their conversation in the woods. he’d never thought about it before, but of course kihyun has had to learn how to speak up for himself. to ask for what he wanted outright. and there changkyun was, complaining about the time he was too lazy to pick a university, so his rich parents handled everything for him, with the audacity to be dissatisfied with the ivy league-adjacent one they’d picked. he feels sufficiently chastened, at first, but it settles into a smoother, newer part of him. somewhere better. then, he’s just… excited. excited to know kihyun better, excited to be better.

that night, they curl up facing each other in changkyun’s old bed, just sharing warmth, and changkyun asks, “how was it for you? your family.” he can’t see kihyun’s face in the dark, but he can imagine it; he can always imagine it, beautiful and sharp, assessing, deciding, soft in the hollow of his cheeks, and at his temple. he runs kihyun’s knuckles over his mouth.

kihyun says, “it wasn’t too bad.” his voice is soft and deep in the dark. changkyun loves him.

“they never really… understood, i don’t think. my mom was so sad when i started using my new name,” he laughs a little.

“i had to do most of it myself. a lot of research, a lot of calls with the insurance company. i think when… i got surgery. i think after that, they knew i was serious. it was a huge loan, and i had to build up a shitton of credit for it. anyway, they were a little better after that.”

changkyun hums, and runs his nose along the second knuckles, and then kihyun’s flat, neat nails. every part of him is neat, except the inside, sometimes, which changkyun loves even better.

“i think it was a relief for them, once i left for college.”

changkyun makes a soft, hurt noise then, because kihyun won’t.

“it doesn’t bother me too much, usually. it’s just the way it is. i think i was saddest in high school, when minhyuk accepted it immediately. because then, i had something to compare it to. i thought, why is it so easy for him, and so hard for them? but then…” he sighs.

“it seems like everything that hurts me at first, or that i’m wary of, turns out to be the right thing. being friends with minhyuk hurt at first, but then it was right. when i — you hurt at first, too.”

changkyun holds kihyun’s hand close to his chest, against his heart, in silent apology.

“just because i wasn’t used to it,” he quickly amends.

“i wasn’t used to someone liking me so much. and treating me—” he breaks off in a noise that changkyun’s never heard before, which he quickly mentally documents in case it happens again.

“your mom and dad,” he starts again, and it turns out he’s trying not to cry; changkyun recognizes the waver to his words.

“they… i mean. your mom _apologized._ actually apologized to me. just for saying something that might’ve upset me. that’s— that’s—and it’s just…” he sniffles, which makes changkyun hurt all over.

“you have an abundance,” kihyun finally finishes, breath coming out in a rush over the words.

“i know,” changkyun says, because he does.

“and it’s not fair.”

“i know.”

“and. and i want that.”

“take mine,” changkyun says immediately.

“i can’t,” kihyun says.

“why not? i’m giving it to you. take it. here,” he lets go of kihyun to hold out his hands in the dark, which are empty, which are so full it’s spilling out, everywhere, his love. it could glow.

kihyun stares, eyes glinting. his hand is a pale ghost, and he moves it like it hurts to move, back into changkyun’s palm. he traces the lines there. his fingertip is on changkyun’s loveline. this has always been true.

after a moment, he presses their hands together, and the lines in both of them burn; love, life, head, fate, tangled inextricably. changkyun has had his palm read once, as a teenager, at a fair his parents took him to.

the woman, green-eyed, had said, “good fortune for you, boy! rich.”

changkyun had sighed, because it was obvious, but the woman had held his hand tighter.

“you misunderstand. here,” she traced the topmost line in his hand, “your heart. rich in love, is what i mean.”

changkyun thinks of this, now, thinks of kihyun, gilded, jewel eyes, fine china of his bones. rich indeed.

kihyun sighs, “it’s just so warm here. and i’m so cold.”

changkyun shakes his head and pulls kihyun right up close, nuzzling their faces together. oh how he wants his palm to callous where he holds kihyun’s sharp jaw. how he wants it to be old hat, to touch him. how he wants to be sick of it, this incredible thing.

“you fit,” changkyun assures him. “not too cold. seventy-five and sunny. get out your parasols everyone, we’re going to the vanity fair. is it an actual fair?”

kihyun laughs thickly and takes his hand back, bringing changkyun’s with it. he kisses changkyun, a burning stamp on the back of his hand. changkyun thinks, _i’ll remember this forever._

“thank you,” kihyun says, and when changkyun asks, “what,” he replies, “just thank you.”

x

they manage to walk the entire wood, over the next few days; kihyun is convinced to climb a single tree, by changkyun’s soft eyes, and promptly declares he’ll never do it again. as they walk along the path through the orchard on their last day, changkyun explaining the seasonal nature of fruits, and isn’t like that, with people, too? kihyun thinks, _i love him,_ and doesn’t give in to the urge to immediately take it back.

he’s trying not to lie to himself as much, these days.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! lmk what u thought <3
> 
> find me on twitter:
> 
> [main](https://twitter.com/lookslikerain) [fic acc](https://twitter.com/rouxberrv)


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